wild hearts can't be broken
by xPaige Turnerx
Summary: You hit the ground with a bang, and keep getting up. You don't know how to stay down. [a series of one-shots, none of which are related unless specified. BxA, BxR, BxL, BxAnyone]
1. Chapter 1

_You used to try to wake the beast in me  
There's still a very sleepy part of me inside  
I've been waiting to come alive  
You stared into my eyes and turned to stone  
And now I'm living all alone  
In these four walls_

You're not sure when it happened. Maybe the very first moment your eyes caught hers through the window of the cafeteria - the way her eyebrows bounced up in intrigue and interest, and her golden eyes sparkled with _something_. A something you've never been able to name, but it makes you feel like falling.

Or maybe it was the first time she said your name. Her lips painted a pale blue, caressing every syllable of _you_ , and you can't stop the shiver. Those lips curve up in the corner, a smile or a smirk, hidden and gone in a second. She introduces herself as Edward's sister and expresses her gratitude that he finally found someone.

It's one of those two times, for sure. That's when you fell, and oh so gently that you didn't notice until it was too late. Until you fell asleep in the woods, clutching her history book to your chest. And you thought for sure that was it, that you would break and never, ever get put back together again. There was some relief there, mixed into the pain, the thought that you would never _feel_ again, therefore you would never _feel like that_ again.

But she came back and what you thought was gone was unburied. It was dragged up through six feet of earth and electrified because there is no denying Alice. You're not capable of it, not on any level, and so you sigh and try to fortify your heart this time. Wonder when she will break it again. When it will end.

Beginnings and endings don't mean much to you, not anymore. If being in the Cullens' lives have taught you anything, it's that _the moment_ matters. How long? Not so much. And you have to agree because this moment is… important.

You can feel it in your chest as you stand in the middle of the studio. Why she rented a studio, you have no idea, but it's Alice and it fits. It's Alice.

 _It's Alice._

You're clever enough to know when your soul is trying to tell you something, but that doesn't mean you have to listen to it. So you block it out and look up when the door opens. Focussing on the details helps, it keeps your mind busy, and a busy mind doesn't wander. Doesn't wonder. And wondering _hurts._

Alice twirls into the room with a speaker in her hand that she holds up. "Found it!" she declares brightly.

You feel like a snail without its shell beside her. A dark little blob of yuck. Your sweatpants have seen better days; thin in the knees and splattered with paint - you honestly, truly don't know how it got there. You came in a tank top because she said to dress comfy, and your sneakers feel out of place when she pops up in heels.

"Damn, Alice, what's with the shoes?" you echo your shock and point down at them.

Her grin is equal parts mischievous and bashful. "You're too tall," she tells you and stops a mere foot away. With the heels, she's _maybe_ three inches shorter than you. "This is about the height difference between you and Edward."

Something your gut drops when she says his name and you have to force yourself not to react. Not to give yourself away. "I guess that makes sense," you reply while she watches you.

They all do, especially since returning, but Alice _watches_ you. Often. It's almost uncommon to look up and not meet her eye, and your heart whispers lies. It tries to fool you, but you won't be fooled again. You won't let it break itself again.

Alice is your best friend, and you are hers. That is enough.

She holds out her hands and you take them, confused when she laughs and shakes her head. "As much as I love holding your hand, Bella, we need to get into position. Come closer."

"Oh, sorry," you mutter and slide half an inch closer.

Golden eyes roll and Alice steps forward until she moulds to your body and you have to clench your jaw. Perfect. She fits into you perfectly, like you were _born_ to hold her. Like your sole purpose for wandering the surface of this hellhole of a planet, was to be _here_ , right _now_ , with _her._ It makes your bones ache and your heart hurt and your eyes sting, but you smile anyway. "Okay, so I'm going to lead but when you do this with Edward, you will be in my position. Pay close attention to the way I move."

Right.

Like you totally need to be told to do that.

The music starts and she moves - like water. Graceful and fluid and strong, she is ethereal in her actions, and mesmeric. You feel yourself falling deeper and you can't stop, you can't do anything but hold onto her and hope the impact doesn't kill you.

Or maybe hope it does.

Alice sings along to the song softly, her soprano voice an enchanting lure as you both twirl and sway around the studio. You can't get her out of your head; the way her laugh makes your heart stutter, how she always smells like _bubblegum,_ the fact that she presses flowers between the pages of your heavier books for you to eventually find.

You are _consumed_ by Alice Cullen, you are hopelessly, irrevocably in love with her.

And you're marrying her brother.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **(But We Lost It - Pink)**


	2. whatever you want

_I feel like our ship's going down tonight_

 _But it's always darkest before the light_

 _And that's enough for me to try_

Alice has been in love with Bella for as long as she can remember.

Literally.

From the very first vision, on the very first day, of her very new life, Alice has been waiting for _this_ moment. A moment she had been beginning to suspect would never come. Ninety-eight years of waiting is bound to make even the most devote a little skeptical.

To say she was shell-shocked when she first spotted Bella in the cafeteria is… an understatement. She stumbled. Alice, whose grace put any and all ballerinas to shame, who could waltz through a mosh pit _blindfolded_ and still never tumble, had tilted sideways and had to catch herself on Jasper's shoulder.

Jasper had to leave very quickly after that, for the tidal waves of emotion _pouring_ from his best friend threatened to sweep him away and drown him. Violently. Truly, he didn't expect such raw intensity from his, admittedly often excited, mild-mannered sister. After all this time, he is ashamed to admit, he didn't think her capable of feeling that.

Alice has had many flings over the years. She's been around for a long, long time, and the years get lonely. Companionship is essential when faced with forever, and immortality is cold when you're alone. Especially when you're as much of a people person as Alice Cullen.

Her feelings only ever ran skin deep, the only time he ever felt her skim true devotion was when it involved her family.

So when his heart echoed the explosion of her own, and he was flooded by her joy and elation, her surprise and excitement, her agony and fear, he couldn't _breathe._

Bella Swan hurtles into their life like a rocket of misfortune and Alice can't believe how much saving she requires. From icy sidewalks to speeding vans, all the way to nomadic vampires, and old grudges worth killing for. Bella is completely oblivious to the danger that follows her like a deadly shadow, and Alice lives in anxious hope for a long time.

But she _knows_ what's still coming, what will happen, what their future will bring. She's _seen_ it, and god, why couldn't she see any _more_ , why couldn't she see _how_ to make it happen?

Her certainty takes a dive when Edward brings Bella home, declaring the two are happily dating. Alice is… confused, and rightfully so. She expresses as much to her brother who transforms before her very eyes.

The sympathetic boy who scoured the earth for her mate with her is gone, replaced by a smug man who dutifully dotes on his _beloved._ Love has made him wicked and selfish for more, and her heart breaks for him just a little bit.

But only a little, as she's forced into the role of Best Friend.

Not one she takes lightly because she wholly and completely _adores_ Bella and will take her in any capacity she's graced with. Bella's happiness outweighs Alice's own, by far, and still, her heart retains its hope.

She's _seen_ them. The vision doesn't change.

Alice Cullen will marry Bella Swan.

When they leave, it's… complicated. It's difficult and confusing and she's a mess, really. She can't get out of her visions, she refuses to try, because she's _searching_ for their future. She saw it. It never changed. So why is she _leaving?_

It doesn't make sense but she's been doing this long enough to know that the future never makes sense. So she goes against her gut and leaves without a word. With a glare aimed her brother's way and a fractured relationship. Her still heart _aches_ and she doesn't leave her room at the Denalis' for a month.

The others mourn the loss of Bella because she's family. They hadn't realized until they left but Bella is the daughter that was missing, the little sister. She was an integral part of the family that leaves it feeling empty without her.

Alice waits as long as she can but she's already halfway to Forks when she gets the vision.

 _Charlie wipes at his wet eyes, shoulders shaking as he bites back a sob. His tie is strangled, like he's played with it too much, and he stands before the coffin, a lost man._

The door to the Swan residence is ripped off the hinges when she gets there and - and she's not sure what to do. She didn't _see_ and how, when, how could she not _see?!_

Human footsteps stumble up the porch behind her and she's not sure if it's real or a ghost coming to haunt her. Agony and regret tear at her back and she can't turn around.

She can't, she can't, she can't.

" _Alice! I…_ _ **Alice!"**_

And Bella falls into her arms like Atlas finally buckling under the weight. Bella falls into her arms and it feels like destiny.

A short-lived destiny.

Edward is a selfish boy who is blinded by love. It's hard not to be mad at him, but she tries to remember this as they fly out to Italy.

Alice is in a much better mood with Bella's hand in hers, but she hasn't hunted in three weeks and she forgot how _good_ Bella smells. Oh, also, she has to figure out how to save her dumbass brother in broad daylight in front of hundreds of people, and _then_ kick his ass until he can't walk straight.

But her human is clever and oh so brave. Alice watches through her visions as Bella elbows her way into the crowd, uncharacteristically graceful as she swerves around people, majestic as a gazelle hopping the fountain. They both wince when she collides with his chest, and Alice tries to ignore the way something in hers breaks when he kisses her.

All is forgiven a little too quickly for Alice. It doesn't feel… right, and she worries all the more. She expected anger and tears and resentment, but Bella is… quiet. Reserved. She's zoned out stares and dark eyes full of secrets, muttered sarcasm that is especially biting and hurtful if she isn't paying attention.

She's a changed girl and Alice can't figure out why. Surely it isn't _just_ because they left? Bella seems…

Alice isn't sure. She asks if Edward's still being an ass and Bella looks confused. Sleepy. She's so sleepy these days. " _Oh, Edward,"_ she says as an afterthought and shakes her head. " _Same old, same old. Hey, can you scoot over? I don't have much room over here."_

The distance kills her but Bella's comfort comes first, and so she steps back. Always steps back. Always gives Bella everything she ever asks for, and refuses to smother her like Edward does in the hopes of holding on.

She suspects he senses the shift, too.

The three of them graduate and Bella is… happy. She's brighter than they've seen her in a long time and she hugs Alice without hesitation. She hugs Alice like she did before they left; no space, nose in her hair, and a happy hum in her chest.

Nobody can blame Alice for holding on like her life depends on it.

Later, Alice will wish she held on longer, held on tighter.

Edward proposes and _Bella says yes._

Bella says yes.

Yes.

It doesn't really click in her head and before she can absorb it, before she can _feel_ it, she's planning their wedding. Bella and Edward's, that is. Their wedding. To each other. She's not sure how that happens, she does it mostly on autopilot, and doesn't see Bella for a while.

Doesn't feel things for a while.

Rosalie is the first to notice or maybe just the first to say something. She asks when Alice got so _scared_ and promises to back her in a fight with Edward because, " _He's been annoying me lately, anyway. Too… happy."_

Alice assures her that she's fine. She's busy! A wedding won't plan itself, you know.

Another week goes by and - when's the last time she spoke with Bella face to face?

Edward whisks her away to the meadow before Alice can pull her aside, and so she looks at centrepieces instead. Roses are a little on the nose, lilies are classy, but sunflowers don't scream _Bella._

" _You don't have to do this, honey,"_ Esme tells her one morning and waits until golden, dazed eyes lift up to her. " _It's okay. Alice, please just… I don't know how to help you. Alice? Can you hear me?"_

Yes, of course she can, but are daffodils really appropriate for a wedding, Esme? No. No, they don't fit. They can't fit. Nothing fits. Nothing works. It doesn't make sense. None of it makes sense.

Oh, but the dress is ready!

Another two weeks go by and there are guests in the yard and music in the air. Alice kneels at the foot of Bella's chair, hair done up, dress crease free. Everything is ready. Everything is perfect. Bella told her so, herself.

But Bella isn't here. Not really. Alice hasn't been able to catch dark eyes all day, and they look a million miles away. She leans sideways in the chair, elbow on her arm, cheek smushed against her fist.

It's adorable and Alice's brittle heart aches in her chest.

She's waited long enough - she can't wait any longer. Not for a vision that, though it has not changed, has still not happened yet. And may never, if she doesn't say something. This has to be it. This feels a lot like a last chance.

She can't bite her lip and force a smile any longer.

"Bella?"

The human grunts and her eyes flutter but do not blink, nor look away from Rosalie's vanity. "Huh?"

"Please look at me."

She feels like she can breathe again when brown eyes flick down to her and a brow furrows thoughtfully. "Sorry. Did you say something, Alice?"

"Not yet," she whispers around a nervous smile. The garter in her hands feels heavier than anything she's ever held before, but still she fiddles with it. "You asked me why I left. You asked _me_. For _my_ reason."

Bella blinks and nods. "You said you couldn't tell me yet."

"I know," Alice agrees and her heart swells just a little bit. "You haven't asked since."

"You'll tell me when it's time."

So trusting, her Bella is. Even after everything they've been through. Even after she's been deceived _so many times._ It's heartbreaking, really, how often Bella is lied to, and Alice decides she won't ever again. Not one more. "Such faith you have in the future," she says and the nerves are back.

Where are her visions when she needs them?

How is she supposed to do this? How is she supposed to convince Bella to stop her own wedding?

But Bella smiles, soft and shy and _hers_. A smile she's never seen sent anywhere else, not even Edward. The smile that was directed at her that first day in the cafeteria. "I have faith in _you,"_ she tells Alice quietly. "Always."

"I left."

"You came back."

Alice leans against Bella's knees, hands on her thighs. She feels the human shiver beneath her palms and blinks darkening eyes. "Bella," she repeats and doesn't know if she's swallowing a growl or a sob. "Bella."

"Yes."

The garter in her hand is strangled, dropped on Bella's lap as she holds her hands up. She can't… her strength is dangerous when she's like this, and she can't hurt Bella. Won't hurt Bella.

Wet eyes blink up at the bride and Alice smiles a broken, watery smile. "Please don't marry my brother."

Bella's heart stutters before beating twice as hard. Twice as loud. "Why not?" she asks around a large breath.

"I've waited ninety-nine years for you and I can't wait one second longer."

And Alice isn't sure if she's in Bella's lap or if they're on the floor, all she knows is the feel of Bella's lips on hers. Warm and soft and something from a dream long forgotten. Bella tastes like a century of longing, like decades of hope, like the morning air after a storm. She tastes like Fate.

"Leah owes me twenty bucks."

They pull back enough for Bella to drag in air and Alice to drift back down to Earth. She bumps her nose against Bella's, feels her bottom lip drag against hers, and smiles. "Oh?"

Bella nods, and their foreheads clunk. "Ow, yeah, she thought you'd let me marry him. I was pretty sure you wouldn't." Bella braces herself above Alice to give her a light scowl. "I really thought you would have said something _before_ he proposed, but better late than never."

"You knew?!"

She huffs. As if they're having a small disagreement. As if she's not full blown straddling Alice in _her wedding dress_ , on her _wedding day_ , during her _wedding ceremony._ "I thought I did, and then you let him propose!"

Alice swallows what is definitely a growl this time. "You said yes?"

"I was… I was scared." Her voice is small and soft, pain from when they left creeping back into her eyes. A wound that's never healed quite properly. Alice relaxes and holds her tighter. "Marrying into the family seemed like… a guarantee, that I would _be_ a Cullen. No matter what."

It's something she looks forward to - proving to Bella that she will never leave again. That she will always be a part of the family. That one mistake doesn't define them. A happy duty she takes on willingly, and smiles bashfully up at her human. "Bella?"

"Yes."

"Please marry me instead."


	3. I see your heart is bleeding too

The chilly bite of the night is a refreshing change from the hot, sticky humidity that saturates the rest of the house, and Bella desperately gulps in a lungful. The music fades when the back patio door clicks shut after them and she adjusts the girl slung over her shoulder, hauling her to the edge of the short deck. "Just, uh… just aim for those bushes there, Lauren," she says and grunts, gently easing her friend down to the grass at her feet.

The blonde is already heaving and Bella grimaces, quickly snatching up her hair and looping it around her hand, while the other rubs soothing circles on the girl's back.

A metaphorical shadow falls over them, Bella already gearing up to verbally abuse the drunken asshole who followed them out, but stops short at the cloud of bubblegum that engulfs her. "An honourable pirate holding her girlfriend's hair back while she pukes? You almost never see those."

"Think I passed three of them on my way out here," Bella replies matter-of-factly. Parties drain her patience. Being _sober_ at a party? She didn't have patience to begin with.

A pixie gracefully drops to the edge of the patio, gliding her toes over the grass Bella's standing on and Lauren's laying on. A real pixie. An actual pixie. Possibly Tinkerbell from Peter Pan, but it's been a while since Bella's seen the movie or read the book. Brilliantly blue eyes sparkle with mischief and Bella is smitten. "Yes, but were their costumes as good as yours?"

And she's smug. A little smug. Mostly, people didn't even notice what you wore to these things, they were mostly concerned with taking it off, but Bella _likes_ dressing up. She likes Halloween. "I was born to be a pirate, I think," she tells Tink and flashes a grin. "And my mom is a little nuts for these kinds of things." Renee all but demanded to help with the costume and… yeah, getting carried away was Her Thing. Before Bella can tell Mystery Girl this, Lauren hurls into the bush again, rather violently. Bella's eyes water and she tries not to think about it.

Puking in front of Tinkerbell would be a fatal mistake, she's sure of it. If only because she'd beat herself to death for ruining… whatever _this_ is.

"Remind me again why people _enjoy_ college parties?"

Seeming to consider this, Tinkerbell coyly taps her chin and bats her eyelashes. "The people they meet."

"I'm not so good at meeting people," Bella replies without much thought as she pats Lauren's back.

Blue eyes are watching her intently when she glances back up and she bites her lip before grinning awkwardly. "Could have fooled me. I'm Alice."

"Bella Swan."

Tinkerbell's gaze drifts down towards Lauren who moans woefully. An elegant, dark brow lifts curiously. "And your girlfriend here?"

"Lauren," Bella answers while something clicks. Her grin fades into more of a smirk. "She's annoyingly straight."

"Annoyingly?"

The curiosity is clear and, if anything, growing. Bella shakes her head lightly and taps her fingers on Lauren's shoulder thoughtfully. "Is it bad that I'm sick of listening to her gush about boys?"

"Would you rather she gush about girls?" The question is fired off quickly and Bella is delighted by the dusting of rose across Alice's cheeks.

Bella shrugs. "At least then I could relate."

"Finally!" Alice laughs, holding her face in her hand as she hides her embarrassment. If her hands weren't literally full with her friend, Bella might have stopped Alice. Her embarrassment is _wildly_ cute and Bella kind of wants to tell her that. "I thought you were going to make me just come out and ask you."

The smile is hard to smother but Bella doesn't try all that hard. She just shrugs again, chuckles under her breath, but can't keep her dark eyes straying from blue for too long. "I mean…" she shakes her head, "I'm a pantaloon wearing pirate. I think it's pretty obvious."

"I don't usually do the chasing," Alice admits.

"Aren't I special."

Her loaded gaze drags up and down Bella's frame until the pirate's the one blushing and looking away bashfully. Alice hums happily. "I guess we'll see. Tomorrow, after you've taken care of poor Lauren? Say, nine o'clock, drinks at the Half-Moon?"

Bella nods slowly, sucking in a giddy breath. "Y - sure, drinks. Sounds good."

Never in her life has she been happier to stand out in the chilly cold, holding her friend's hair back, listening to her puke.


	4. there's a moment I'm smiling

"If you were going to do a couple costume, don't you think you should have done it with your _actual_ girlfriend?"

The words are low, a dangerous growl trailing after them that has Bella's shoulders hiking up as her entire frame freezes. _Shit. Shiiiiit._ Slowly, she turns to the source of her petrification and swallows her mouthful of punch roughly. The greeting dies on her tongue when she sees what Rosalie showed up in and her brain sort of glitches.

Alice comes to Bella's rescue, hooking her arm with the human's. "Rose! You're late, you know. I suppose we're just happy you showed up at all."

"Costume. Comma. Couple." Rosalie's eyes are dark and stormy, and her face is _not_ amused.

The pixie is all smiles, tugging Bella around to look at her. She reaches up to adjust one of the leaves in Bella's hair (that's _much_ more red than usual). "Ivy, be a darlin' and grab a gal a drink, would ya?" she chimes in her most perfect imitation of Harley Quinn.

Brows furrowed, Bella stuffs her hands into the back pockets of her green jeans. "But you can't even-"

"Oh my _god_ , Bella," Alice gasps, hand flying to her heart. "If you tell me I can't have punch because I'm a vampire, I'm going to _scream."_

Dark eyes watch Alice incredulously, waiting for the laugh or wink, something that tells Bella her friend is joking. She gets none and blinks. " _Holy shit,"_ she breathes and slowly backs away to get the pixie a drink.

Rosalie, too, looks bewildered when Alice spins back around to her. A smile is flashed her way and Alice spins in place. "My reasoning for this costume choice is two-fold. The first," she ticks off one of her fingers and scowls up at the blonde. "One of us is _actually_ a gymnast and psychology major, and one of us is not. It's my turn to be Harley."

"Yes, but-"

"The second!" she continues before Rosalie can reply. She wraps her arm around the blonde's waist and turns to find Bella grimacing and spitting her punch back into her cup. From the corner of her eye, she catches Rosalie's snort and gentle smile. "You had to dress up as this."

"Why?"

The hostile tone is gone, replaced by a warmth that only the clumsy human has ever been able to drag out of Rosalie. Alice hums thoughtfully. "Sorry, did you _not_ see the way Bella melted when she looked at you?"

"That was fear," Rosalie scoffs.

Alice scoffs right back. "We both know what fear looks like, and we've both noticed its absence when it comes to Bella."

"My defective human."

They both watch Bella elbow Mike in the ribs and take the opportunity to step out from under his arm. "Poison Ivy is gay, Mike, and so am I, so _fuck off!"_ she snarls.

Alice coos lightly under her breath, bouncing in place as she tugs on her sister's arm excitedly. "That's your future _wife_ , Rose!"


	5. louder than God's revolver

The first time you see her is… painful, actually, when you think about it. Like a dull throb in the forefront of your head that makes it difficult to focus your eyes and actually _see_. But you don't notice that until later, not when an actual, literal angel is running up to you.

An angel of chaos, with messy black hair and frantic black eyes. A name falls from her perfect lips and it's familiar, like something from a dream long since forgotten. It tickles in a way that echoes through your body, and you instinctively step closer.

The angel of chaos stops short just before you, careful and cautious, curiously, before she collects you in her arms and - and it's so nice that you don't even mind a stranger is touching you. You don't care that she breached your bubble, your sacred bubble that you've _screamed_ at people for breaching before.

It feels like the most natural thing in the world. Like your personal space has a welcome mat just for her.

It feels like home. A feeling you've never known, for as long as you can remember.

Which isn't saying much, actually.

Her hands - so chilly! It's not even that cold out. Her hands cup your face like you're something precious, something to treasure, to care for. It's tender and intimate and _lovely_ , and damn. You wish it was for you. You really do. You wish you were whoever she thinks you are.

Jealousy courses through your veins like acid, to the point that you step back.

You step away.

Before you _can't._

Life isn't fair, but this is just cruel. How dare it force this taste upon you, only to keep the real thing to itself. This chaos angel can just walk away after this, but you? You're marked forever by a moment so beautiful it makes your eyes sting.

She blinks up at you and her eyes are watery, they're full of tears, but the tears don't fall. She shakes her head and drags in a choppy breath. " _Bella,"_ she whispers and reaches for you again.

You take another step back. "I don't know who that is," you tell her and surely your heart rips in two. You can feel it, the agony that tears through your chest. "Sorry."

It doesn't click at first.

She watches you for a brief moment of bliss, black eyes tracing your face. Engraving it into her memory, and you're surprised she hasn't come to the same conclusion herself. For how hard she stares at you, you'd think she would have realized she has the wrong person, by now.

When understanding floods her, you expect embarrassment. Maybe irritation. The usual reaction when you've confused someone for someone else. What you _don't_ expect is her whole face to fall.

You don't expect the sorrow that wells up, the disbelief and pain that so clearly streaks across her face. You watch as she flinches back, as if struck, and a hand flies up to her chest. " _No…"_ she whispers hoarsely.

Devastation eats away at her before your very eyes and you feel _helpless_. Helpless against whatever is happening to this perfect girl, this lovely girl. She's breaking and you're just standing there like a jackass.

Sometimes you really hate yourself.

"I think you have me confused with someone else," you try to say.

But she's staring down at her feet, fingers digging into her forehead. A person on the verge of shattering.

So you force yourself to act.

Acting has never been your strong suit. Caring about people, it's just not something you're really capable of. You _want_ to be, and maybe that's close enough.

But this girl?

You awkwardly shuffle closers to pry loose her surprisingly strong fingers from her face. She looks up at you hopefully, in a miserable kind of way, and you offer your best smile. "I'm very sorry," you whisper and lick your dry lips. Her eyes follow your tongue and snap back up to your own. "I can help you find her?"

"I already did," she smiles softly, sadly. A smile in mourning. "But he found you first."

Your head tilts and something in your mind screams. A vague memory too murky to surface, but it is raw with pain and agony, a searing white flash that burns, and burns, and burns.

Sometimes you're glad you can't remember your life. The little snippets here and there are well and truly traumatizing.

Chaos angel touches your chin again. Your eyes flutter and you focus on her, on her curious face. And the muted prayer. "Do you remember Aro?"

The screaming gets louder and you grimace. "No, I… sorry, who are you?"

"Don't!" she chokes out and presses a finger to your lips. Chaos angel shakes her head, her amber eyes beseeching you. (wait, amber?) "Don't ask me who I am until you remember who I am."

Part of you wants to point out the contradiction of that request but you don't. She's very clearly upset and you're scared that if she leaves, you might never see her again.

Like. You probably won't, but you don't have to speed up that process by driving her off.

You're a jackass but you're not a total asshole.

She leans forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder and you let her. One of the other hundreds of things you're not good at, is comforting people. You usually manage to make things worse, miraculously so. But if she can find some kind of comfort in you, you'll do your best not to ruin it, and sit there quietly.

"Baby, I'm so _sorry,"_ she whispers and you shiver. Seriously, who is this chick? Why is she breaking her own damn heart over a stranger? "You don't even know what he took from you. What I let him take. And I… I can never make that up, I can't even apologize properly, because you don't _know_ anymore."

You shake your head slowly. "How… how do you know about my memory issues?"

She sniffles and wraps her arms around your waist, pulling herself close while you hold your arms up awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Bella. I'm sorry," she chants over and over until her shoulders shake with her sobbing.

And you're _tired_ but she's hurting and it hurts _you_ , so comforting is another thing you'll have to force yourself to be adequate at. You slowly pat her back and rub small circles on it. "Hey, uh, it's okay. It's going to, you know, be… okay. Don't cry, alright? Please don't cry, Ali…"

She freezes just as you repeat the name on your lips, a puzzled quirk to your eyebrows.

Ali? Who the hell is Ali?

"What did you call me?"

Big golden eyes stare up at you in awe. You shuffle back a step or two and shrug, looking around. Where's Felix? "I, uh…" You rub at your aching forehead and grimace again. "I-I'm not sure. I should, I need to go."

"No, Bella, please wait!"

You stumble back a few more steps. The corners of your vision get fuzzy. A sheen of sweat covers the back of your neck. "I need Felix…"

Something is _very_ wrong because you _swear_ you can hear her growling. Actually growling. Like a dog or… something bigger, more feral. What are those things called? With the crazy hair.

"Bella-"

"A big cat," you say as the sky spins. "The big cat in the jungle. Not a panther. What is it called?"

Amnesia sucks ass. Losing the big things, that's horrible. A nightmare that can keep you up at night, screaming and screaming and begging for one scrap of memory. But the small things? Salt in the fucking wound, and thrice as annoying. A reminder. A kick, when you're down.

"Felix will know. I have to call Felix."

She grabs your phone from your trembling fingers and guides you to the curb of the sidewalk, helping your sit down. Catching you, really, as you drop. The fuzzy vision goes black in big splotches. "I can't let you do that, Bella."

"Why do you call me that?!"

"It's your name, baby."

"Why do you call me _that?"_

She shakes her head, and you can see the frustration in her face. The anguish and fear. You struggle to keep looking at a face so perfect it makes your heart clench painfully. Eyes so bright, so gentle. A smile so sad but so hopeful. _You know her. You must. It's too familiar._ "That is… complicated, and we'll work on it. I _will_ explain everything but we need to leave."

You suck in gulps of air like your life depends on it and close your eyes. The world won't stop spinning and neither will your stomach. "Why?" you groan.

"We cannot let Felix find us."

Your forehead is clammy but you still rub at it. The ache blooms into sharp pain, a prickly flower of agony. "He's my friend," you tell her.

"He's not. He helped do this to you."

And you glare up at this angel who, in a few short minutes, ripped apart the life you were desperately trying to stitch back together. "And how do _you_ know that?"

"Because!" she snarls - _snarls!_ Like a beast! And leans down to cup your face again, still so gently. So tender. So soft. Her golden eyes blaze and light you on fire from the inside out. You're breathless and clutching to her coat.

Her smile is hope. It is hope and a dare, mischief incarnate.

"Bella, I'm your wife."


	6. war of hearts part one

_Stay with me a little longer_

 _I will wait for you_

 _Shadows creep_

 _And want grows stronger_

 _Deeper than the truth_

She's not sure why she keeps coming out here.

Jasper keeps asking, the family keeps asking, and she doesn't have an answer. Not one they can understand, one they can appreciate. She doesn't know why, she just knows she must. She can feel it. She just doesn't know what it is.

But she's fairly certain she's chasing it.

The woods are becoming more and more familiar, each day she spends out here. Every baren branch, every undisturbed flake of snow, even the sound of the wind whistling through the old trees. Not a spec of green, no heartbeat, no sign of life anywhere...

She can understand why the locals call this the Dead Forest.

What she doesn't understand is why they fear it, why there's such a dark twist of their mouths when they speak the words. What that shadow in their eyes means. Why their hearts skip a beat anytime someone whispers the words.

It's beautiful. Enchanting in a way she couldn't put words to, in a way she couldn't hope to capture even in one of her sketches.

Maybe it's the Dead Forest because of the way its beauty haunts you, even after you leave. Maybe this is why she constantly finds herself back here, drawn in, deeper and deeper.

The silence that drapes over the forest is soft and welcoming, the snow a glittering blanket of comfort, the trees tall and eternal guardians keeping you safe... a peace so tranquil you could drown in it and never even notice.

The wind kicks up and Alice turns against it, her dark hair swept up around her face, her scarf dancing over her shoulder, the ends of her coat flapping around her. Her lungs heave in air she doesn't need, pupils dilating as her Fight or Flight instincts prickle. The very sudden feeling of not being alone crashes over her like a bucket of ice water, and she turns in place, searches the trees.

Being a psychic, Alice has always taken comfort in the fact that there weren't many, if any, people who could sneak up on her. Being a vampire, she takes comfort in the fact that she could probably fend off any who tried.

Despite all this, in the moment, Alice can't stop her breath from hitching. Can't stop the fear from barrelling down on her like a freight train. Can't stop wishing she'd agreed to let Jasper come with her this time.

(It's selfish, she knows, but she wants this place to be hers. This... thing, to be hers. Whatever it is. Whenever she finds it. If she ever finds it.)

Now, she's not so sure. Maybe this isn't a place that's safe to have. Maybe this thing isn't safe to chase.

Maybe she's made a grave mistake.

"I've had the sudden realization," she calls out into the wind, turning in the opposite direction of the larger clearing she's in. "That for as long as I've been searching for you, you've been watching me."

There is no reply, nothing other than the wind in the trees, but she knows better. She knows better, even as her mind tells her she's being foolish.

"This is just a forest." She takes a few steps backwards, not entirely sure which direction she's about to sprint in. Choices, even to those who don't share her gift, can be easy to predict if you know what to look for. She knows the trick is to make them at the very last moment. Let your opponent be just as surprised as you. "You are what the locals fear."

The trees look less and less like guardians, more and more like apathetic bystanders. Here to witness, here to cage, offering no comfort or protection. They're only going to slow her down.

"Right then." Alice sets her shoulders and takes a sharp breath. "Let's have at this, come now. No more games. We've wasted enough time, don't you think?"

Snow drifts across the banks, twirls through the air, catching the dying light, sparkling pillars in the wind. There's nothing else, not at first. Alice has almost convinced herself she's having a conversation with no one, is rolling her eyes, turning away-

The start contrast of dark against the white is vivid and hits her like a slap to the face. Alice's hands fly up to her mouth to muffle her startled gasp, and she reflexively jerks back in surprise.

Something she's not entirely used to.

A stranger stands at the edge of the clearing, just inside the trees. Taking away the fact that someone managed to sneak up on Alice, that they made it this close without her knowing, fear forms like lead in her gut for a different reason.

Alice has met many vampires over the years. Her coven alone is large for its size, but Carlisle and Esme know many people.

Never has she met one like this, and the difference is so jarring she doesn't even consider the girl is a vampire at first. _A wild spirit of the Dead Forest_ , it's the first thing that comes to mind.

Dark coat tail billowing in the wind along with her unruly locks of hair. Eyes as black as a starless night sky, oceans of rage and hunger swirling in their depths, enough to make Alice dizzy. Scars nick her skin, pale lines both smooth and jagged and - Jasper has told Alice enough for her to know what they mean, know what they hint at. The ones at her jaw are deeper, more fresh than the others, and Alice is surprised she can even see them past the blood.

The blood that's smeared across her face like warpaint, dripping from her chin and hands, creeping down into the collar of her coat and shirt. Emmett is a messy hunter but this is...

This makes Alice's stomach churn.

Nobody's moved an inch, they haven't even breathed. The only sound in the clearing is each drip of blood landing on the hard bank of snow beneath the stranger's boots. Alice watches each tear of crimson fall, crash against white. Over and over.

Blood. How did she not smell the blood from a mile away? How did she not smell it from just a few yards?

Alice moves to - well, she doesn't know what, but her body jerks into motion. She makes it half a step and the stranger doesn't flinch. Doesn't make any sign of even noticing Alice has moved, not until the pixie's scarf is blown loose. Caught in the wind, swept across the clearing and-

The stranger's arm strikes like lightning and Alice's scarf is clutched in a bloody fist.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, those black eyes fall away from Alice. The stranger blinks and looks down at the soft material in her hand. Traces the patterns in the fabric with her gaze and Alice is intrigued to notice that the rage and hunger fades. That such potent, passionate emotions are even capable in this... girl?

Curiosity and interest replaces them, perhaps even the barest hint of fondness?

This. This, Alice can work with. This is the smallest hint of a person, but a hint nonetheless, and Alice is good with people. She's not sure, exactly, why she's here but she knows it has something to do with this stranger.

And she'll be damned if she doesn't figure it out.

Alice opens her mouth to ask the girl her name when-

 _"Oh god. Oh - you-you killed him... you killed him! No. No, no, no. You bitch! You killed him, you bitch!"_

The man wails his despair and insults, and Alice can feel her heart up in her throat.

The stranger tilts her head to the side, casts her eyes down, as if she's listening to him. All of her attention stolen away. Darkness creeps back in. Her gaze hardens and the air is colder than it was before. Alice can hear the cracks in her skin when the stranger squeezes her fists at her sides.

She's gone and - did Alice blink? Did... did the girl move? Is she that fast? No, she couldn't be. But... there one second and gone the next. "Invisible?" Alice's voice quakes into the silence. That would certainly explain how Alice didn't spot her. Perhaps why she can't get visions of her?

Hmm...

She tucks this information away for later. Decides these are things better pondered from the safety of her home.

With one last look towards the far side of the woods, Alice tears away in the opposite direction, back towards the house.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

If asked, Alice could not tell you why she found herself back in the Dead Forest. She's beginning to understand that it may not be the actual forest beckoning her back, but whatever she's supposed to do about this stranger.

Her gut has never led her astray yet, but even she has to question this.

Impulsivity has always been her strong suit. Given her visions, this is no easy feat, but it's worthwhile if she's the only one who's ever going to be able to surprise her. The others just aren't capable, and there's something simple but delightful about the unexpected that she couldn't explain.

A shard of life that is forever just out of reach for her.

Except, perhaps, when it comes to this stranger...?

"It's not the smartest thing, coming back here," Alice says to no one in particular. Or maybe just one in particular, that may or may not hear her. She kicks through the snow, on her usual path, peeking around the trees as she goes. She can't see her stranger, she doesn't know for sure where she is, if she's even there, but... she feels like she can feel her around. Following. Watching. "But, then again, you let me leave the other day."

Wind howls, the forest mimicking wolves - because there are none. No life in the Dead Forest, and now she knows why. She wonders if she would find gold or red when the black fades from her stranger's eyes.

"Or maybe you were preoccupied by the screaming," Alice mutters. Red, she suspects. "Edward spent some time hunting very bad men. I wonder if you do the same?"

Snow crunches beneath her boot. The sun lowers beneath the horizon. Trepidation lingers beneath her courage.

"Am I looking for redeeming qualities where there are none? Do I presume to know a stranger from a handful of minutes together? A dangerous one, at that?" Alice laughs to herself even as she readies herself for a fight.

The darker it gets, the less of a good idea this seems.

"Am I asking too many questions? Jasper tells me that I ramble when I'm nervous." Alice shakes her head. "Of course, Rosalie tells me I talk too much to begin with. It's not my fault, though, talking to her is like having a conversation with a wall. Actually, it's a lot like this. I think the two of you may get along well."

Silence closes in around her.

She blinks a few times and smiles down at her boots. "That was a joke. You're more like talking to... to the stars. Everything I say bounces off Rosalie and her impenetrable walls. You are receptive, you're there, listening, even if you don't respond." She leans around a tree to gaze far down towards the other end of this patch of woods. "That one was a compliment. Some people spend their entire lives studying the stars. I bet they could do the same with you."

When Alice turns back around, she's startled to see the stranger again. Startled, but not surprised. Still, she presses back against the tree by instinct, fingers digging into the bark, muscles tensing for a fight or maybe to run.

The stranger's moves are fluid, silent, careful. She creeps behind the trees, a safe distance away from Alice. Black pits flick up to the pixie now and then, but she seems content to watch her feet. Slowly circling around Alice, until the pixie has to turn her body to keep her in sight.

She backs up to her path and keeps walking, her eyes never straying from the stranger. "I guess it's hard to have a conversation if I've never even introduced myself." She laughs softly, a little in disbelief that this is even happening right now, and shakes her head. "Esme would be appalled by my manners. My name is Alice."

Like an ethereal wraith in the night, her stranger blips out of sight. Alice's eyes widen and she sucks in a sharp breath, head jerking to the side when the stranger blips back into view on the other side of the path. Still far enough back that it's not terribly alarming, so much as it is surprising.

"What's your name? How do you do that? It's more than being invisible, isn't it? I can't smell you. Are you a vampire?"

Onyx eyes regard her with a muted, distant curiosity. The kind of fleeting wonder you feel when you spot a bag on the bench by the street.

Alice tries not to be offended - she knows she's more interesting than a mystery bench bag. Her hands fall to her hips anyway, and she cocks her head to the side. "If you would just answer one question, I might stop asking all the others!"

The stranger blinks slowly.

"Okay, it's a lie and we both know it. Put yourself in my shoes, though. Imagine it was you having visions and feelings telling you to come out to this forest, that have you chasing around a ghost, and then finally you meet you! Would you not have a million questions?"

Finally, the stranger responds. She jerks to a stop, body utterly motionless. Her black eyes are locked with Alice's and... yes, Alice can just make out the surprise and apprehension.

She lurches forward, holds up her hands to the stranger. "I should have led with the visions thing," she says quickly. Vampires are, naturally, already cautious of each other. Throw in abilities that some have over others, and it makes for an uncomfortable situation. You'd be hard pressed to find a vampire that wasn't wary of another who had gifts. "I didn't - I'm not chasing you. I mean, I am, but - wait! Shoot!"

She could have guessed that her stranger would disappear. She might not say much (or anything, for that matter) but that doesn't mean Alice isn't getting to know her.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

The snow feels like a hug all around her, like she's being cradled by the softest of blankets. She'll miss it on their next move. From what she's heard, Forks isn't known for their snow. Their rain, for sure, but snow never lasts anywhere wet. Not long enough to become this.

"But you know Carlisle, ever nostalgic," she says with an airy sigh. "The others say that Forks isn't too bad, but you should hear Rosalie complain about these wolves. I have to say, I'm interested to see them. Have you ever met a shapeshifter? Would you know?"

A cloud of snow explodes up over head and Alice jerks with a start, a gasp tearing from her lips. She feels the stranger thud back into the snow behind her, their heads a foot apart. She tilts her head back enough to peer up at the curtain of dark hair in the snow.

It's the closest they've ever been and maybe she should focus on that, try to nurture it, try to strengthen this bond that is slowly, slowly growing between them, but...

"Was I really just talking to the sky this time?"

She doesn't know why but she swears she can hear the stranger smirk in the silence.

Alice huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. "Unbelievable. How many conversations are you not really present for? How many questions have I wasted, just... just sending them out there to no one?"

The lack of response is becoming predictable but also mildly comforting? It feels different than regular silence. This is... this is _her_ silence. A responsive silence.

Still fairly aggravating.

"Yeah, well, two can play the Quiet Game, lady. How would you like it if I just started ignoring you, hm?" Alice challenges. "Eh? Someone's gotta keep the conversation flowing here and I don't see you volunteering anytime s-"

All her life, Alice has been craving surprise and excitement. To experience life as it happens - not expect it, predict it, foresee it.

Now, she kinda wants to go back to how things were. Keeping up with this stranger is difficult, and is only made harder by the element of danger that clings to her just as easily as the snow clings to Alice's clothes.

The stranger's boots are kicked up into the air, she summersaults backwards and - and she's straddling Alice! The pixie gasps, maybe tries to ask her to get off, shout an exclamation of surprise, something, but a scarred hand covers her mouth.

Fear and adrenaline kick in and she's bucking, trying to squirm out from under the stranger while dread builds in her stomach. Dread and disappointment because no, _no_. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. It was supposed to be worthwhile, it was supposed to be... to be _something_. A reason why she kept coming back, why the universe wanted her here.

Not to be attacked, not to be so foolish as to believe in Fate and Destiny, only to come face to face with the cold, hard reality that this is a stranger, a dangerous stranger, and Alice was a fool to hope. To wonder.

But the stranger is tall. Long, toned limbs that pin Alice more easily than she's comfortable with, a hand on her mouth and the other on her shoulder. She glares defiantly up in the stranger's face, expecting those black eyes to be staring down at her. That rage and hunger back, ready to consume her, but...

They're not on her. They're wide and full of panic, full of fear. They flick around the clearing almost too quick to follow, hair whipping back and forth as she searches for... something. Alice slowly stops her struggling and the stranger swaps from pinning to just sitting on her, searching, waiting.

And then they hear it.

Heartbeats. Nearly a dozen. Lungs dragging air in, letting it out in choppy bits. Eventually, voices accompany them.

The stranger leans down, her body atop Alice's, covering her. _Protectively,_ Alice's mind whispers. They both look off to the side where shadows bounce between trees, humans approaching ever closer. Alice glances up at the stranger, watches as she closes her eyes in concentration for a moment, before they flick open again.

Alice knows nothing is different, that nothing has changed, but she swears the air feels different now.

 _"We've been out here all day, John. There's no sign of anyone, and I don't see how they'd survive out here on their own, any damn way,"_ one of the men grumbles.

Another limps next to him, face twisted in anger _. "She's here. Ain't no ordinary girl, either. Fuckin' ate Reggie. Fuckin' ate him, guys. This thing's a demon."_

 _"I think you've been listening to too many of them stories they tell down at the pub, John. Reggie probably just wandered off and froze to death out here. Like we're gonna if we don't head back soon."_

The men pause just at the edge of the clearing and Alice feels the stranger tense above her. She slides her fingers up over her hips, gently digging them in, holding her tight and secure against her. Ignorant as these men may be, they don't deserve to die.

The stranger blinks and turns to look down at Alice, her long hair falling in a dark curtain around them. Golden eyes trace surprisingly elegant features and, yes, okay, vampires are naturally beautiful to draw in prey, but this girl is pretty. _Really_ pretty.

Alice is very suddenly aware of their positions. Very suddenly aware she hasn't noticed anyone since meeting Jasper. Very suddenly aware she's noticed this girl and - nope.

Just no.

There's no need to make this complicated with attraction. She's a married woman and this girl is… chaos. Chaos incarnate.

 _"I'mma find that bitch and I'mma kill her, if it's the last thing I do,"_ the man, John, declares darkly.

Alice looks back up at the stranger. Watches the fear and alarm melt like a snowflake in water. A switch is flipped, and the dark, devoid stranger is back. The rage and hunger echo deep within that gaze, slowly drawing closer and closer to the surface with each passing moment.

Hold tightening, Alice prays the men leave quickly because she's not certain she'll be able to stop the girl. Not if she... goes invisible, or whatever it is that she does.

 _"John, man, it's called the Dead Forest for a reason. You were warned not to come here, just like everyone else. They've got the signs and fences up everywhere."_

 _"But-"_

 _"They searched for weeks! You think Reggie could last that long out here, on his own? Without food or water? If he didn't freeze to death first. I wanna go home. We all wanna go home. It's time to face reality."_

Leave. Please leave. Just leave, please. Just leave. Go now.

A match is lit and Alice's eyebrows jump. _"You wanna go, then go. I'm gonna hunt down the demon that ate my best friend. I'll burn it out, if I have to."_

"Don't!" Alice gasps when the stranger's muscles twitch, and she pulls her closer. She reaches out to grab the scarf, her scarf, that's wrapped once around the girl's neck. Tugs until black eyes peer down at her. "Please don't," she whispers beseechingly.

The men argue with John by the trees, but even that fades away to nothing. Alice watches, enraptured, at the emotion flitting through the gaze staring back at her. The girl lowers her eyes to the scarf. The intricate patterns, the vibrant colours. To the hand clutching it, nails painted a bright yellow. Finally, back up to golden eyes that are concerned for strangers. All strangers, it would seem.

And Alice feels like she's fallen over when the girl opens her mouth and asks in a voice soft as velvet, _"Why?"_

"Th-" she licks her lips and raises her voice as the men recede back into the trees, "they don't deserve it."

Black eyes flick to the side, the stranger sitting up to watch them men disappear farther and farther into the woods. The simple statement replays over and over in her mind. They don't deserve it. Alice watches as she tries to wrap her head around it and is shocked that something as pure as compassion seems to be a difficult concept for this girl.

As much as she hates it, she's starting to believe that the girl might need more help than Alice is capable of.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **Part 1**

 **(did you guys read Cloud's update on his mute!Bella story? Got me craving that Bellice goodness, go check it out!)**


	7. red cold river

_Days reborn_

 _Fight with folded hands_

 _Pain left below_

 _The lifeless live again_

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Lights dance in your eyes, bright enough to leave you blind, to blot out all the colours you saw - see? Think you see, or saw, maybe. Once upon a time, in this life or another. No, this one. You're alive. Are you alive? That ungodly wail of despair… you have to be alive. Death doesn't hurt this bad. Acid in your brain, scorching away anything and everything, all the things you thought you knew.

Gone.

Cold emptiness left behind - a minty numbness, a brain scrubbed so _clean._

Where is your dirt? Where is your life?

You crack your eyes open again, staring up, up, up into the sky. Such a vibrant blue, but darkness cuts through it. Black, maybe brown if you look hard enough - and you _do_. You can see so well; wings carving through the air, black eyes searching, searching, searching. For what?

What does a bird look for?

Agony screeches in your skull again, threatening to blast out the back of it. You cry out, holding your head together, surely if you don't it will split right apart. Echos beating against your psyche, ghosts clawing at your chest.

Lungs scrape together enough air to fill them and - breathing. It doesn't feel right. Nothing feels right but this is, well, who cares. Breathing gives you enough clarity to turn on your side, to dig your hands into snow and ground yourself.

Yourself, yourself, yourself.

Who are you?

" _ **Bella!"**_

Oh, helpful. Bella will do, as good as any other. It's yours now, if it ever was before, but the shrill scream has you pressing your forehead against the cold snow. The chill soothes angry flames that still lap at your brain, infernal memories blazing into nothing.

How do you stop fire from eating everything you are?

"No, no, no, no," you mutter into the snow and sink back down into it. God, you feel sick. Dizzy, so dizzy, and you're not even moving. You've barely even _looked around_. How are you so dizzy?

What feels like an eternity later, you finally make it to your knees. The world comes screaming in and the peaceful bubble of nothing that you had is gone - popped in a moment. Chaos churns before you; people screaming and snarling, ripping each other apart. Mighty beasts stalking a battlefield, tearing through groups of people. The very ground itself - ripped open, the earth cracked wide. People are shoved in, others tackled, and more still climb up out of it in panic.

A woman clings to the edge, her hands digging through the snow, slipping, sliding, clawing for earth as she succumbs deeper into the crack. Your heart clenches and you don't know why, and it seizes with dread when a tall man stands before her. You can see his lips curve up into a wicked smirk, fangs and all, and he raises his boot.

Before sorrow can rip your heart from your chest, one of the enormous wolves _slams_ into him and they both go over the edge. You gape at the scene, watching them tumble through the air, flooded with relief when the wolf kicks off from the man and makes it to the other side - barely.

He screams all the way down.

Your skull throbs and you're forced to double over, hold it tight and swallow your own screams. Life has never hurt so much before… has it?

Strong hands grab your coat and you're hauled up to your feet in the same second, your jaw cracking from his grip. Ruby red eyes glare down at you and a mountain of a man snarls in your face. "Looks like I have to settle for killing the empty shell," he taunts and you're confused but… but…

But _angry._ The sight of his face - _beautiful_ but twisted, malicious and cruel - it fuels a rage that burns hotter than the pain in your head. So much so, in fact, that the only logical thing to do is smash your face against his.

He staggers back, his grip slackened, and you do it again. Again. Again. He drops to his knees, reaching for his cracked face, but you grab his hands and slam your forehead down into his face again, then your fist and it's _oh so satisfying,_ hearing the crunch, hearing him whimper in pain. You do it again, again, again.

Until he's nothing but a quivering, groaning, cracked mess on the ground. Curled up in a ball, holding his face and shielding himself the best he can.

There's a blonde woman when you turn away from him, about a head shorter than you, mischievous smirk, and bright golden eyes. Her fingers crackle with electricity when she wiggles them at you in greeting, and nods to the man on the ground. "You pack a mighty wallop, cousin," she says with a teasing lilt. "No wonder she's hogging you all to herself."

If you could get the words out, you'd ask her what she's talking about, _who_ she's talking about - even who _she_ is, who _you_ are. But you can feel it in your chest, that _words_ are not what's trying to force its way through your clenched teeth.

Her playful energy fades into something more serious, something like fear and apprehension. She steps forward, hand halfway between herself and your face. It still crackles. "Bella? Look at me. Let me see your eyes - _Bella,_ look at me!"

And you grab that hand, before it can touch your face, you strike like lightning and clutch it in your fist to the point that she winces. Sparks fly from her skin and you brace for the pain, but it never comes. You feel… _nothing._

Empty.

Cold.

Her skin cracks very, very slightly and she sucks in a surprised breath. Her eyes darken shade by shade until black pits stare up at you. "Stop. Bella, stop. This isn't you."

"I wouldn't know." The words trickle from your lips like blood from the wounds on the mighty beasts… but these people don't bleed. They crack like plastic. Like something fake. _You_ crack.

What _are_ you?

" _I don't care what you are, don't you get that? I_ _ **know**_ _you're a vampire and I don't care!"_

The memory flickers, weak and fuzzy, just barely glowing past the flames in your head, but it's _there._ Briefly. But enough.

You drop her hand like it _did_ shock you and jerk backwards. Regret and concern floods your system and you shrink back away from her. "Sorry," you say breathlessly. "Did I… are you okay?"

She stares up at your eyes, cradling her hand to her chest for a moment. "Your shield, Bella. It should have protected you. Why didn't you drop it from us? We would have been _fine!"_

A blur of black and red tackles her out of sight before you can say much of anything and you're left alone again. "Um… right."

Okay.

What the hell is going on?

It's time to take stock of what's happening, what you know. You look down at yourself, clothes covered in snow; heavy black boots and a nice coat, it doesn't really tell you much. Not too well to do, nothing designer, but not shabby either. No markings or tattoos, nothing that stands out. You're all in one piece, so that's nice, but in the middle of a fight. War? Battle, at least.

Whose battle? Yours?

"Oh, but you look _so_ confused," a new voice says and you look over at maybe the only tree in the entire clearing. A man stands beneath, leaning against the trunk, and he looks out of place. From the pinstripe suit, to the bowler hat, down to the cigarette between his lips, he looks entirely too casual in the middle of such a fierce battle. "Did a number on ya, didn't he?"

You lick your dry lips, glancing out at the destruction around you, and slowly approach. He's got an impressive looking gun holstered to his hip and there's something about his smile you can't decide if you trust or not. "Who?"

"Old Aro up there," he says and nods a goatee'd chin towards the group of boulders by the edge of the treeline. Three more men reside atop, looking out at everyone else, with a small group beneath their rocks. "That was a little on me, so apologies and all that."

Well that still doesn't make sense. You look back at him with a quirk of your eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Right!" Red eyes crinkle and he sticks out a hand - the first warm one you've felt since all of this began. "Name's Arthur and, uh, well you and I are relatives. Distant. Anyway, I kinda amped up his ability there, and he plum plucked the memories right from your ol' knocker."

It makes more sense than literally everything else you've seen so far and your mind reels. Memories. Memories were stolen from you. Great. Okay. What the fuck? "How?!"

He snaps his fingers and pushes off from the tree. "I'm an amp, that's what I do. I make things… more than they are? Better. Here, watch. Ordinary gun, yeah? Don't even make a vampire blink." You look down at, yeah, an ordinary gun. A nice enough magnum, but you don't really know much about weapons to begin with. Also, um, _vampires?!_ "Watch."

The moment Arthur's fingers touch it, a sort of white energy slithers along its surface, looping around the barrel. He whistles and another red-eyed man turns at the sound, letting out a fearsome snarl, and charges them.

The gunshot echoes throughout the clearing, bullet carving through the air and ripping through diamond-hardened skin. It breaks through the back of the man's skull and he drops to his knees, eyes rolling back, and his body collapses in the snow.

You turn to gape at Arthur in horror and he simply grins, holstering the gun. "Eh?"

"I'm so confused," you tell him.

And he nods, but his eyes drift over your shoulder and he adjusts his hat. "I'd be surprised if you weren't, kid. Listen, your friends don't exactly know we're on the same side and one of them is heading this way. Be a pal, tell her to go easy?"

If you're being honest with yourself and, okay, how could you not be? You know _literally_ a handful of facts at this point, you're just not _aware_ of yourself enough to lie to yourself yet. So honesty? Best approach. And you don't feel like doing this guy any favours. Sounds like he's the reason you're in this boat to begin with, and you still can't shake that feeling he's… shifty.

But you also feel like he's telling the truth - there's amusement in there. Something about this whole shitty situation amuses him, at least, he's enjoying it. Your hands clench into fists that you're about to smash into his face, but-

Arms wrap around you so tight you feel like you might be split in half, and your immediate reaction is to throw whoever this is right the fuck off of you and run. Or scream. Or keep punching.

Except their hands don't claw into your back, they're splayed smooth, and a face is buried in your coat. They're… they're _hugging_ you. Fiercely. With no small amount of affection.

Um.

Okay.

You awkwardly hold your arms up and look back at Arthur who - mother _fucker_ is chuckling. Yeah, your first is _definitely_ meeting his face later. Later… when this girl is done sobbing into your coat.

Clearing your throat, you look around at the carnage that surrounds you. "This is probably not a good place to do this," you tell her and it _hurts_ that she cries harder against you. Instinctively, you run a hand through those chaotic black spikes, holding her close. "I'm sorry."

And you are. You don't know why, but you are.

 _(Liar. You do know why. You're_ _ **so, so**_ _sorry for ever forgetting this angel.)_

"Bella," she whispers and stares up at you with never ending sorrow. Black pits of regret and pain. "I told you not to sacrifice yourself for me. We could have taken the twins."

You shake your head softly. Lost, always lost. "Sorry."

"I know." She pulls back enough to grab your hand like both your lives depend on it. Someone on the rocks roars; loud and mighty, echoing through the rest of the clearing even over the battle. "We have to go."

The lack of a heartbeat is alarming when you realize it isn't slamming in your chest and you don't have time to marvel over the fact that your _heart_ is fucking _still._ "Wh-"

"Sam called in a favour from another pack - _pride_ , actually," she says quickly and a small, hopeful smile tugs her lips up. "We need to regroup and force the Volturi back, chase them off. For now. And then… I'm not sure, Aro won't settle on anything yet. Maybe prepare for a bigger attack."

Arthur is at your side in an instant, rolling the chamber of his gun. "I can help-"

"You've done enough!" the girl snarls at him. "This is _your_ fault. She doesn't know who I am because of _you!"_ The fire in her eyes has both you and him stepping back, and she immediately softens when she looks at you, squeezing your hand. Her eyes slide back to him and with visible restraint, she doesn't snarl again. "The only reason you're still standing is because you're her grandfather."

"Well-" you look at him and he falters, unable to meet your eye, "yes, I… yes. Of course." He lifts his hat to gather his hair back and sets it firmly, nodding once. "I will protect her, Alice, if you allow me the chance. I give you my word."

Her chin lifts ever so slightly. "Your word means nothing. Don't you understand that? You _betrayed_ her."

"I was trying to _save_ her! It was her memories or her life!" he argues and takes a breath. Collects himself while you watch on. "Okay, this is something we can argue about later. I will gladly take your lashings but now is not the time. We need to push them back and out, _then_ I will surrender to your judgement."

The girl, Alice, slowly grins and her eyes travel up to you. You perk up - a little eager, for some reason. Your heart may be still, but there are butterflies soaring inside. "Not mine. Hers."

"H-" Arthur deflates slightly. "Hers? Are you - but, but she's so _angry."_

"Yes, that tends to happen when you live her life, Arthur. It hasn't exactly been a picnic and I've only been in it for a year," Alice snaps.

Another blonde girl skids to a stop beside them, snow and earth torn up in her wake. "For fuckssake," she hisses and points to the boulders. "Are you kidding me right now? With this happening around you? Time to grow up and finish the plan." Her black eyes land on you, flick between your own, and you're a little surprised to see something crack inside. She steps away and lowers her head slightly, even more gruff. "Don't look at me when you're empty. Let's go."

And with that, she's gone again. You blink and look down at Alice, scraping in oxygen again. "Who was that?"

"Complicated," she sighs and chews her lip. "She's right, though. Arthur… nothing fishy or you're a dead man. Okay, let's go, Bella."

You look up at her, at the chaos behind her, and this silent request, a plea for you to step into a life you don't know. A dangerous one at that…

But she smiles so softly that you're helpless to agree.

And so you take her hand, diving headfirst into the unknown.


	8. the ghost of you part one

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.**

 **Rated: T.**

 **Summary:** We are products of our past, but that doesn't mean we have to be prisoners of it.

 _And all the things that you never ever told me_

 _And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me_

 _Never coming home, never coming home_  
 _Could I? Should I?_  
 _And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me_  
 _For all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me_

" _Make it count. Fix it all. We can't let this happen,_ _ **you**_ _can't let it happen again. Make it right."_

Fog curled around their feet while a thick cloud of smoke hung over their heads, blocking out all traces of the sunlight. An ungodly wail filled the air, sirens blaring and vibrating in their ears, making it hard to concentrate. Dangerous. This had to be perfect, the timing was everything and even the slightest of slip-ups would ruin it. Ruin everything.

She banked to the right in time for the bullet that had been locked on to whiz by, lodging itself into the dead trunk of an old, real tree. If she wasn't running for her life, for all their lives, she might take the time to appreciate the old relic. Instead, they lifted their hands, blocking the blaze of light as the tree erupted in flames, zipping around it before picking up their set trail on the other side.

"They're catching up!" her companion shouted, trying to be heard above the wailing sirens. They hopped the fallen tree, pushing themselves harder.

Faster.

This was the last push, it had to work. Everything they had done, had been through, rested on this moment. If they failed and it was for nothing... no. No. It would work. They would do this.

There was a pause in the siren, a split second of peace before the sonic boom and it resumed. The two felt the hair on their arms rise, a vibration in the air. "They've activated the field – move!" she yelled.

"How did they get ahead of us? Do you think they caught-"

"No," she growled fiercely. They couldn't have. So close, they were so close. Just a few more seconds before they broke free into the clearing. "Just keep running."

The tree line came up fast and she let out the breath she'd been holding when they broke free. He was there, waiting for them across the field, braced and ready. This was it.

 _Just keep running._

The vibrations in the air intensified until they could hear it crackling and snapping. Static. "We're too late, we won't make it!"

 _Just keep running._

"Keep going!" Just a few more seconds, just a few more seconds.

Her companion shook her head. "I can slow it down. It'll take a few seconds to stop me and you can make it."

"Kebi, no!" she screamed, watching in horror as the woman stopped dead in her tracks. She looked over her shoulder in time to see her companion fall to the ground, an electric charge powerful enough to stop an Original dead in their tracks.

Keep going. Make it worth something. Move. She shook her head, focussing on the man in front of her and his grim face. Acceptance of his fate after they were done. It took more strength than most knew to stand there, not to run. The horrors he would have to face after this, she couldn't bear to think of it, knowing the same would happen to her friend. It was almost enough to make her stop and go back for Kebi, but... her eyes locked on his.

 _Just keep running._

She reached out, their fingers brushing against each other before their hands locked. A powerful grip with a white-hot surge of power, strong enouh to make it feel like her arm had been singed right off. "Good luck!" he shouted, using her momentum to launch her further.

Faster.

Always faster.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**


	9. war of hearts part two

_Stay with me a little longer_

 _I will wait for you_

 _Shadows creep_

 _And want grows stronger_

 _Deeper than the truth_

"Bella! Bella, come out!" Alice shouts toward the trees. She waits a moment, watches for any sign of her friend, and huffs when there is none. "Bella, you said I could bring her this time!" She stomps her foot for good measure.

The full embodiment of patience itself, Esme stands beside her daughter. A serene smile on her face, an understanding look in her eye. From what Alice has told her of this new friend, of Bella, this was one of her expectations and she's not surprised, nor put off.

Not like Alice.

"Out of the trees, Bella! Come on!" Alice looks back over her shoulder at her mother and smiles sheepishly. "She really likes climbing trees."

"Honey, did Bella say she was okay meeting me today?" Esme asks gently.

"Yes!" Alice spins around to take the woman's hand. "Esme, I asked her, I promise. I asked, _Bella, can I bring someone with me tomorrow? I think you'll really like her._ And she said yes."

A smile pulls at Esme's lips and she shakes her head. "Yes, but bringing me and meeting me are two different things, honey. I'm not sure she's ready for both, yet."

"I..." The pixie's shoulders slump and a pout slides onto her face. "Didn't consider that. Shoot. Oh my god," she covers her face with her hands in embarrassment, "it took like four weeks for her to say a single word to me. I'm sorry, Esme."

The matriarch waves that thought away. "It's fine, Alice. This was important. This was Bella getting a look at me. The first step." She lifts her gaze to the trees and offers a patient smile. "There is no rush, Bella. Take all the time you need, I'll wait."

"It-" Alice shifts on her feet, eyes scrutinizing Esme's attire. "It might help if you leave something. She likes my scarf."

Esme perks up. "Oh? I only have my necklace, will that work? I don't imagine she has use for a parka?" she laughs.

Alice rolls her eyes but watches her mother approach the closest tree, dangling the golden necklace from a lower hanging branch. It's times like these that Alice is reminded of the never-ending well of compassion that is Esme Cullen. Not a second thought, no moment of hesitation, she is all too willing to give up a personal possession of hers for a complete stranger. "No, she's got a coat already. Fairly nice, too."

"Come, dear, let's give her time to adjust to the situation," Esme says and beckons the pixie.

Yes, Esme was a good choice. Alice suspects Carlisle would have done well, too, but not like Esme. He is understanding incarnate, quite possibly the friendliest and kindest man you might ever meet. A beacon of hope in an otherwise dark, and oftentimes cruel world.

But Esme is home, and everyone needs a home.

There's not much else to do at this point, not if Bella doesn't want to be found, so Alice blurs over. She hooks her arm with Esme's and huffs lightly under her breath before looking back at the necklace. "I'll be back tomorrow, Bella. Alone, this time."

Black eyes watch the vampires leave. With their departure, the Dead Forest is once again still. Silent. Everlasting. Confident that they won't be back soon, Bella lowers herself from a higher branch. She lands soundlessly in the snow below, straightening back up to gaze at the necklace suspended in the air by the old branch.

It may be the nicest thing she's seen in over a decade. Gentle as she can, she lifts it into her palm and pulls it from the branch, staring down at the pendant professionally carved from quartz.

Bella gingerly closes her fingers around it, safely shielding it from the weather.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Though naturally gifted with the ability to relate to and understand people, Esme decided it best to begin studying up on, well, psychology on a whole. She has the time, so why not, but her specific interests lay tied to emotional trauma.

A girl who speaks a handful of words over the course of a month, and hides herself away in a dying forest, must have some emotional trauma. If Esme is to trust her assumptions, which she daresay is a dangerous attitude to have when dealing with people.

They are unpredictable, by dictation of their very nature.

Still, reading up on a subject never hurts, and if it helps, she's more than happy to do it. She'd rather be over prepared than under.

Standing in the clearing, _Bella's Grove_ , as Alice dubs it, she does begin to wonder, however. Watching Alice have a conversation with the wind, hands on her hips while she rolls her eyes at nothing.

Alice, herself, is a fountain of emotional trauma, Esme notes. An example of healthy coping, and strong progression working through it, to be sure. Frankly, you'd be hard pressed to find someone without emotional baggage, these days. But Alice has always been different, unique.

Her visions make her _strange_ , according to the people. People too ignorant, too frightened to put in the effort of getting to know the sweet girl underneath. Of course, Alice doesn't deny this. She proudly clings to the _strange_ title, even with the seed of shame at the centre.

She's not unaware of herself.

Running out to the woods, all over the countryside, searching for something she's not even certain of. This is something that has Alice written all over it, nobody was surprised, as much as they were confused. Creating something from nothing, however, a figment of her imagination so that all might not be for nought, is also in the pixie's wheelhouse. She's creative enough for it and Esme doesn't doubt she could pull something, someone from her visions, to fill this void.

Perhaps there is a Bella, perhaps there isn't, or perhaps there will one day be a Bella.

A creative coping mechanism, as the textbooks suggest. Something more likely to be found in children, but then again, one might take into account that Alice never had a childhood. Or rather, that she lost it altogether.

Esme worries her bottom lip while she tries to think of a way to broach the subject with her daughter. She's walking forward, hand outstretched, when a stranger blinks into view.

Her reaction is immediate, a crouched posture, ready to tear across the clearing and save Alice.

Save her from this tall, dark ghost that hovers around behind her. Looming, a dangerous shadow in the light.

But recognition stills Esme's actions. Dozens of sketches strewn about Alice's bedroom in frustration. A familiar stranger that Esme feels like she almost knows these days. One that her youngest daughter can't stop gushing about, one that the family all at once fears and eagerly awaits.

And suddenly things make a little more sense.

Alice is talking, telling Bella something, but the girl's black gaze is locked with Esme's. It's decidedly blank, not the overflowing pool of emotion that Alice told them of, but a cold wall of nothing.

Another defense mechanism and, yes, Esme is glad she picked up those books. For every wrong path they take her down, they leave her better prepared for the right path anyway.

"This is Esme!" Alice chirps happily, a hand flung out towards her mother. Esme forces her posture to relax, and the smile comes a little more easily. "Come say hi, Bella. Bella. Come on." Alice tugs at the girl's wrist, but she might as well be pulling at a wall. No, a wall would give in.

She's pulling at a mountain.

Deciding to help her daughter out, Esme crosses to them instead, with her hand once again outstretched to formally meet the young girl. The moment she gets close, however, a rumble erupts from Bella's chest and her hand latches onto Alice's shoulder - gently but firmly.

"Oh." Esme frowns down at it. "That's going to be..."

"A bit of a problem, yes," Alice agrees with a nervous chuckle. It's something she's been trying _very_ hard not to think about, something that has her heart aching in the moments she forgets to ignore it. Something that deeply, _deeply_ confuses her. "I told her about Jasper but I'm not sure she knows what having a mate means."

The matriarch's eyebrows lift in surprise and she has to try and tame the amused smile on her lips. "Is she...?"

"I don't know," Alice replies quickly. "I hope not?" _Liar,_ her heart whispers. "I don't think so, but." She chews on her lips and lifts her eyes up to try and gaze above her at Bella. "She's very difficult to converse with, Esme. Watch. Bella, do you like me?"

The girl makes no show of having even heard Alice speak a word. She continues to stare at Esme in an apprehensive manner that surprises the older vampire with its intensity.

"You have no idea how long it took me just to get her name out of her."

Right. Esme lightly shakes her head and holds out her hand to the girl. "Hello, Bella. My name is Esme." Of course, nothing greets her. No twitch of muscles, no sound escaping her. A silent statue regarding her. "I know you don't trust me right now, but I hope to change that soon. With work, time, and patience."

"It's okay, Bella," Alice soothes softly. She reaches up to lift Bella's hand, turning to stand sideways between the two of them. Her other hand reaches out to take Esme's and she smiles brightly when Bella finally angles her head down to watch her. "See? Esme is a friend. Like me. She's my mother."

Bella blinks. Looks back up at Esme, studies her much like Esme has seen Carlisle study his books. Curiously, with intent, and a shard of wonder.

It's not much, but it's a start.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Ruby red eyes follow the bird through the sky, watch it arc and swoop in the air before sweeping down towards the ground. Its black beak pecks at the seed spread over the blanket of snow before it lifts off again, soaring back towards the clouds. Graceful and majestic, it belongs only to the sky, and Bella closes her eyes, her lips curved up.

The only life that ever dares to enter the Dead Forest, and only for briefs moments at a time.

Bella has more birdseed than she knows what to do with, at this point.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

The golden chain is wrapped around Bella's wrist and palm, looping beautifully in stark contrast against her black sleeve and pale skin. The pendant hangs over the back of her palm, jingles in the silent stillness of the forest, the only tell that she's ever near.

Esme and Alice come to expect this these days and it isn't Esme's necklace anymore, so much as it is Bella's. The thought warms Esme's heart, the flame of her hope burning a little brighter each day.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

It's time. They need to move on soon. Well, relatively speaking, but Bella needs time to adjust to the family. Adjust to life outside the forest, so she needs to come home now. It's time to come home, and Esme knows the very thought must terrify the poor thing, but that doesn't make it any less necessary.

Tough love is a struggle for her, but it's in the best interest for Bella. And Esme will always put her children's best interest before her own comfort.

So she tries to remain as light and casual as she can when she approaches her daughters. Alice is teaching Bella how to play some form of card game, or... Esme tilts her head. Tarot cards.

A wily little minx, her daughter is.

"Alice, you are not, by chance, telling Bella you can read her future?"

Alice looks up in surprise. She struggles to hold onto an innocent face but cannot stop the upturn of her lips. "No, of course not. Right, Bella?"

The vampire is staring hard down at the cards, like they hold all the answers to life itself, her arms wrapped around her knees. "But what does my knight look like, Alice? How will I recognize them?"

Esme raises an eyebrow and Alice deflates. She pouts, and throws a huff Bella's way. "They'll probably wanna strangle you," she mutters and starts collecting the cards. "Couldn't have lied just this once?"

"Bella," Esme calls softly. She catches Alice eye and nods, the pixie giving them their space and privacy while she rearranges the deck of cards on the other side of the clearing. Esme lowers down to her knees in the snow before Bella and smiles cheerfully. "Good morning, Bella."

Red eyes blink at her, peeking over her arms atop her knees.

"We need to have a little chat-"

"I'm sorry."

Esme pauses, her brows furrowed. She's surprised to find fear gazing back at her, to see how tightly Bella grips her own arms, to hear the cracks beginning to form. Esme rushes to smooth her hands over Bella's, alarmed and appalled when the young girl flinches back. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"Y-you want - and, and I never, but - what… I didn't do anything." She shakes her head vigorously, staring down at the toes of her boots and refusing to look up, to meet Esme's eye. "I'm sorry."

And it's not a girl sitting there before Esme, not any more, but a wounded and caged animal. Scared, cornered, and expecting... punishment? Maybe? _Assumptions are dangerous_ , Esme reminds herself, because if she latches onto the wrong thing, she won't be able to help the right one. She'll miss it. But latching, in this instance, is so very easy as Bella hugs her knees tighter to her chest.

So Esme swallows down the indignation at the very thought of meeting whoever did this to such a sweet, gentle girl like Bella. She counts to three in her head and takes a breath, makes sure her movements are slow, that her smile is soft, that her eyes hold no accusation. "You're safe with me, Bella," she says as gently as she can.

Black eyes are slowly dragged up to meet hers and the air is sucked right back out of Esme's lungs. A haunted soul stares back at her, dull and lifeless and cold. The heart of the forest reflected at her. "There's no such thing as safe."

"Bella...?"

She locks her fingers together in her hair behind her head, pressing her forehead against her knee as she rocks back and forth. _"I can still taste the poison of every thought, every breath."(1)_

Little more than a blur, Alice tears across the clearing, leaving a blizzard of snow in her wake. Her arms are wrapped tight around Bella, holding her as close as she can, breathing words of reassurance in her hair while she stares up at her mother. "It's okay, Bella. You're okay. I've got you. I found you. You're okay. I'm here."

"Oh, Bella," Esme sighs as her heart breaks for the girl. She reaches forward to grab her boots, the closest contact Bella will allow yet. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again, I promise. I promise."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ **One - Sick Of It All, Evanescence.**_


	10. Tis The Fucking Season

_**[No edits, we die like clouds.]**_

Bella waits outside her locker. She sits across the hall, leaning back against the lockers, with her headphones on and music blaring loud enough to drown out the rest of the school. Black eyes track each student that passes in front of her, locking onto the side of their necks. Watching the vein pulse with the beat of their heart. Feeling it throb all the way down her fangs.

Damn it.

She looks down and taps her pen against her knee anxiously.

 _One, two, three, four._

Don't look at the humans. Don't look at the humans. Don't look at the humans.

 _One, two, three, four._

"Fish are friends, not food," she tells herself with a shake of her head. A couple of kids nearby give her weird looks, but it's not totally out of the normal for Bella Cullen. She's kinda weird, and they've mostly come to accept it.

So busy trying to ignore the world is she, Bella almost misses when Rosalie Hale stops at her locker to switch out her textbooks. She blinks down at her knee, the ink from her pen soaking through. Glances up at the locker, catches sight of Rosalie's pale blonde hair, and looks back down. Esme won't like that she's ruined another pair of jeans. "Fish are f _riends! Rosalie!"_ she gasps and springs up to her feet.

Rosalie grabs the door of her locker, biting her lip to contain the squeal of fright. "Jesus, Cullen!" she gasps and glares at the cheerful girl who yanks her headphones down around her neck. "How did I not see you coming from a mile away?"

It's a rhetorical question with a very pointed look at the hideously bright Christmas sweater Alice had wrestled her into this morning. Too much yellow.

But Bella grins and runs a hand through her hair, looking down at her shoes sheepishly. Counts the polka dots on one foot and looks back up. "Most people don't."

"Shocking."

The two stare at each other and while Bella is perfectly content, Rosalie eventually rolls her eyes and turns to leave. "Oh!" Bella gasps again and falls in step. "Um, right, yes. I was wondering if you had plans for Christmas?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I… uh…" It's not any of the answers she was expecting and it throws her for a second. "I'm not sure," she answers truthfully and winces. "I know your family life is-"

"Is _what?"_ Rosalie snarls, storming forward into Bella's space, her face.

The vampire stumbles backwards, ducking her head. "Nope, nope. Fucked it up. I'll try again later. Bye, Hale."

And like that, Rosalie watches the ever elusive Bella Cullen dart down the hallway away from her. She shakes her head, sneering at the staring students until they look away.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

They find her next outside.

Rosalie sits beneath her favourite tree right at the edge of the football field. Its branches are a little bigger than the others, they hang a little farther out. More shade on a sunny day, less snow in the middle of the winter.

She's about to turn the page in her book when she catches a flash of orange out the corner of her eye. Annoyance and endearment battle for purchase of her heart and she sets her book down on her lap, looking up.

Just in time to watch Alice Cullen launch herself against Bella's back, driving the taller girl down into the snow face first. Rosalie snorts, watches the powdery snow explode around the two of them, Bella's hideously matching orange sneakers in the air before she lays flat.

Alice adjusts the green Santa hat on Bella, patting her shoulder before she prances off again.

For just a moment, Bella basks in her embarrassment and wounded pride, and then she's up, brushing the snow from her clothes. Rosalie is surprised no blush accompanies it, and she's caught staring when golden eyes find her own. She clears her throat and stares down at her book pointedly.

Bella drops down into the snow two feet in front of her, a lopsided smile on her face. "Sup, Rosalie."

She hates the shiver that comes every time Bella says her name. "Cullen."

"Hale."

"What do you want?" she sighs.

Bella shrugs. "I'm not sure. I just know it involves you."

"How?"

Again, Bella makes a noncommittal motion with her shoulders and shakes her head. "Why does a flower reach for the sun?"

"Sustenance," Rosalie says slowly, suspiciously. "Look, if this is some kind of, ugh, joke? I'm not interested in playing. Please, leave me alone."

The vampire's fingers tap against her knee. "One, two, three, four," she mumbles to herself and nods. "Yup, okay." She jerks up to her feet in a sudden but surprisingly graceful motion and hesitates. "I'll figure out how to do this properly."

"Do what?!" Rosalie shouts after her.

God. What a weird girl.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Red is most definitely Bella's colour. Against her hair, her pale, pale skin, her beautifully golden eyes… yes, red is her colour.

She quite literally pops up in the locker room just as Rosalie opens the door to the gym. In fact, she almost smashes the thing against Bella's face, but the vampire easily grabs it. There's a small screech of metal ripping and the whole thing tips against Bella.

Rosalie gapes while the vampire sighs. "Damn it." She turns to drop the thing with an ungodly _**smack**_ that echoes throughout the entire gym and has everyone looking over. "I really had it this time, too," she groans and slinks back out of the gym.

Everybody else watches, flabbergasted, and something clicks for Rosalie.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

"You're not human," Rosalie accuses after school one afternoon. She jams her finger against Bella's shoulder, sucking in a sharp, painful breath as her finger threatens to break. "Oh my god, you're _not human!"_

Bella nods. Then shakes her head. Then nods again. "Uh, no. Well. No. Mostly no. Actually," her eyes crinkle with thought and she taps her chin. "Yeah, totally not."

"Bella. Bella, what does that mean? What are you?"

"I'm not really allowed to say," she replies hesitantly.

The human's heart beats erratically in her chest, her eyes wild, panicked. Some kind of.. Beast has been, what, stalking her? In ridiculously coloured Christmas sweaters. It's creepy. What does that soft blue hide beneath it?

"What do you _want_ from me?" Rosalie demands. Again. The chasing was… flattering, before, when Bella was human, just another girl. Awkward, weird Bella Cullen.

Now she's… something more. Something dangerous?

Bella shrinks back and god, why does she look so scared? As if Rosalie could hurt her? As if _Rosalie_ is the one who's something other than human? It makes her heart clench and she hates it. Hates that she's concerned for this… thing that's stalking her.

(Her stomach churns against the instinctive cruelty.

More and more like her father every day.

Fuck.)

"Nothing!" Bella insists with big black eyes. "I don't want anything from you. I just - I want, I was going to-to ask… no. No, this isn't right either. I don't know how to _do_ this!"

Rosalie groans, throwing her hands into the air. "Do what?!"

"Tell you that I like you!"

"Goodie for me, a mighty Cullen is fond of me," Rosalie says sarcastically. "Like that gives you a right to harass me day after day?"

Grumbling, Bella fishes around in her pocket for her keys. She scowls at the blonde, opening her car door. "You don't get it."

"Get what?"

"You're a stubborn girl!"

"Go to Hell, Cullen!"

"A very stubborn girl!"

Violet eyes watch the car speed off out of the parking lot, and Rosalie's lips curl up ever so slightly, her cheeks tinting pink.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

The next day, Rosalie braces herself as Bella marches down the hallway towards her with purpose. Her face is set in determination and, maybe, could be considered a little intimidating. She notices some of the other kids skid to the side, out of Bella's way, and clenches her jaw.

Bella holds up a finger, pressing her lips together firmly. "Too aggressive. Fuck!" she groans and turns on her heel, storming away again.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Fate, funny as it is, decides to intervene. If neither girl, neither stubborn girl will just admit to themselves, or the other, then Fate will pull it from them.

Funny as Fate is, it is equally callous.

And these girls are quite stubborn.

It comes in the form of icy parking lots and speeding vans.

Glass crunches, shatters above Rosalie as she drops to the ground, shielding her face. Her breath catches in her chest, eyes wide as she waits for Tyler's van to crush her. Maybe it's a little ironic that her last thought it of Bella. Weird Bella, always chasing, chasing, chasing.

Always charming.

She should have been nicer, should have-

The van groans and Rosalie blinks, looks up at it and watches as it tips, tips, tips. And then she blinks again, looking down beside her.

Shoulder and head braced against the truck behind them, Bella holds the weight of the van against her feet, keeping it from crushing the two of them. Pale fingers dig into the ice and concrete beneath them, and she grunts, grinning at Rosalie. "Sup, Hale."

"Bella…" Rosalie breathes in awe.

Bella blows the pompom tip of her Santa hat out of her face. "Whew. Thought I wasn't gonna make it in time for a second there. You good?"

"Bella."

"Yeah, that's my name."

Rosalie scrubs a hand down her face. "Bella, you saved me."

"You're welcome," the vampire chirps happily.

"I didn't thank you."

Her smile grows. "I adore you. I don't think I've made that clear enough. I well and truly adore you."

"You have," Rosalie sighs. She hisses, wiping her scraped palms on her jeans. No blood, thankfully. "I'm an asshole."

"I know."

A golden brow twitches up. "Excuse me?"

"Oh," Bella frowns and shakes her head, pushing the van back until it lands on all four wheels with a bang. "That's one of the things I adore! I-I like that about you, I think it makes things fun."

"Fun?"

Voices get louder as people come rushing over to check on them. Bella grimaces against the noise, pushing herself up to sit back against the truck. "I don't know how else to do this. I've tried. I don't think I'm doing it right, and I-" she blinks, leans up to look around the van. Closer. They're getting closer. "I have to leave. Merry Christmas, Rosalie."

Rosalie grabs a handful of tacky purple Christmas sweater and yanks. While it doesn't actually do much of anything, Bella turns eagerly. The kiss is quick, angry, maybe a little frightened. Fueled by adrenaline, the aftermath of a lethal near-miss.

But Rosalie is oh so warm and Bella melts into her delightfully. It's more tender than the vampire was expecting, and she hums happily. Feels Rosalie's smile against her lips. "Merry Christmas, Bella," Rosalie whispers between them and finally lets her go.

And maybe the eyeroll is more playful than anything when she watches Bella hoist herself up and over the truck with a blinding grin.


End file.
